


Moon Madness

by Lobelia321



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-27
Updated: 2013-04-27
Packaged: 2017-12-09 18:04:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/776401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lobelia321/pseuds/Lobelia321
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dominic and Orlando discover passion on a New Zealand beach.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moon Madness

**Author's Note:**

> My very first slash-fic! Three 'chapters', alternating POVs. Feedback very, very welcome, incl. critical.  
> Added in 2013: Not quite my 'very first'; I did scribble Frodo/Sam (Lord of the Rings fps) onto some note sheets in January 2002 but never typed it up. This is the first fic I finished and sent to a beta (but never posted due to self-criticalness). If you want to read the first fic I actually posted, go to A Helping Hand. :-)
> 
> This also exists in a 'DVD commentary' version. Comment if you'd like me to post that, too.

Moon Madness

by Lobelia

Finished on 7 February 2002.

Category: Romance, POV  
Rating: NC-17  
Pairings: Dominic, Orlando; Orlando, Billy  
Summary: Dominic and Orlando discover passion on a New Zealand beach. There's also a brief fling involving Billy.  
Author's Notes: My very first slash-fic! Three 'chapters', alternating POVs. Feedback very, very welcome, incl. critical.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

1\. Orlando

Orlando stood at the bar, feeling randy as hell.

He enjoyed feeling randy because one of the best things about this new shoot and about being in New Zealand was how easy and plentiful the sex was. He wasn't a famous movie star, not yet anyway, but he was an actor in a famous movie. All he needed to do was to let on that he was part of the cast, bat his eyelids a few times, and lean back to enjoy the ride. Sometimes he didn't let on anything and went for the challenge of seducing someone without outside help. He was good at that, too. Fuck it, he was great at that.

He glanced at the mirror behind the bar and saw a young, hot guy with sharp clothes and a cool, punky haircut, spiky on top and shaved at the sides, and that guy was himself. Orlando lifted his beer can to his mouth, let some beer dribble down his chin, licked the foam off his lips, wiped his chin and looked about him for someone to take to his hotel bed.

It wasn't the best of nights tonight. Somehow, he'd got separated from the really fun crowd of the cast and crew, Dominic and Elijah and Liv and David and Steve the Orc and that guy from lighting, and ended up with a group who'd all gone home for an early night. Still, no matter, the night was young. Well, sort of young, the pub passably crowded, the live music tolerable, and who should walk in the door but dear old Billy.

Orlando lifted his can to him in greeting. Billy grinned, and Orlando signalled to him that he'd be getting him a drink. He put his empty can down and ordered two more beers, and as he looked over towards Billy again he felt that familiar, dry acidic taste at the back of his throat and desire flame up in his jeans.

It wasn't ideal to be having sex with someone in the immediate casting circle but then again, why not? And why not Billy? Why not, indeed?

Seen across the room like this, Billy did look full of promise. His eyes were luscious, his lips cherubic, and a stray forelock had tumbled across his forehead so that Billy, every now and again, puffed out his lips to blow it away, and that was sexy, too.

The beers arrived, and Orlando grabbed them and made his way through the remaining crowd. He was already planning what to do when he reached Billy. As soon as he'd crossed the room he threw one arm around Billy's shoulders, gave him a quick kiss squarely on the mouth and said, close to Billy's ear and making his voice low and husky, "How's it going, Billy?"

Billy blinked and said something.

"What?" shouted Orlando. The band had struck up, people were cheering, and the music drowned out any hope of conversation. 'All the better,' thought Orlando. 'Things will move faster if there's no conversation.'

"I said," said Billy, close to Orlando's ear. "Thanks for the beer."

Orlando grinned. He tugged the ring pull off and took a long draught, looking at Billy all the while. Then he licked his lips but left a bit of foam, just for fun, and moved close to Billy's ear.

"You're looking a bit lovelorn tonight," he said, and immediately moved back to check the effect.

Billy looked surprised. "Well," he shouted back into Orlando's ear. "I am a bit, actually, yes."

That should have sent the alarm bells ringing. But Orlando, obtuse, just smiled and used it for a pick-up line, "Maybe I can make you forget that for a bit?"

Not very original but it seemed to work. Billy's answer came faster than he'd expected. "Maybe you can!" he said, and then, "You sure are a fast mover, you old bastard."

Orlando laughed. "That's me," he said. "Always eager to be of service."

Billy laughed, too, and after some more banter backwards and forwards and two more beers each, they made their way across town back to their hotel. Billy was good fun, giving innuendo as good as he got, but looking a little nervous, too, which added spice to the whole thing. Just before they reached Orlando's door, Billy stopped him in the hotel corridor and whispered, "You know, I've not done this with a bloke before."

Orlando loved that line! It made him throb with desire, and he placed his hands on Billy's waist which was slim and warm, and whispered, making his voice a bit campy and blowing hot breath into Billy's ear, "Well, then it's about time you did, Billy m'dear." He moved in for a kiss. Billy's lips were surprisingly soft, energetic and pliant at the same time, and there was a delicious little groove between his upper lip and his nose against which Orlando rolled his tongue.

But Orlando didn't want to spend too long on the preliminaries. He pulled Billy along and they stumbled down the corridor. Orlando fumbled for his keys, feeling just ever so slightly out of it, and opened the door. He went in, without turning on the light, and stood against the wall, his head tilted back, breathing heavily and waiting for Billy to make a move. He wanted Billy to make the first move, because it was important that Billy shouldn't feel foolish and first-timerish, and also because it was sexy as hell, waiting in the dark for another guy's mouth.

The latch went 'click', he felt Billy leaning against the back of the closed door in the dark, only inches away from him, and then there was Billy's hot breath, not on his cheek as he'd expected but against his groin. He gave a gasp and grabbed Billy's hair, as Billy pushed his face against his jeans and mouthed Orlando's cock through the denim fabric.

Everything went quickly after that. Orlando tugged off his clothes, Billy encircled the tip of his cock with his tongue, and they lurched towards the bed. Orlando gasped. Billy went "aah" and left bite marks all along Orlando's upper arm.

The sex was wild. The sex was hot.

It was afterwards that things began to go sour.

Just as Orlando was drifting into a dreamless, post-coital sleep, he felt Billy shift next to him and make an odd, strangled sound. Orlando opened his eyes. By the orange neon light of the hotel sign coming in through the window, he could just make out the contours of Billy, sitting up amid the bedclothes, a hand covering his eyes.

"What's up, Billy?" he said.

"Oh, nothing, don't worry about it," came the muffled reply.

Orlando sighed inwardly. Not some emotional trauma! 'If I'd wanted an after-sex heart-to-heart,' he thought, 'I'd have gone to bed with that girl from costume.' But he was a well-brought-up young man so he sat up and touched Billy on the shoulder and said, kindly, "Come on, Billy, what's up?"

"Nothing, nothing," repeated Billy and jumped off the bed. Orlando heard him take a deep breath, he then turned around, his face half in shadow and his eyes huge and glistening in the orange semi-darkness. "At least, nothing to do with you. Please don't worry. But I'd better go now."

'Yes,' Orlando thought and fell back onto the bed. 'Yes, you'd better.' What he said out loud was, "I had a great time." He said that because it was true and, also, because that's what he always said. He liked to part on good terms, and he liked affairs to be conducted properly and politely. Particularly one-night stands.

"So did I," said Billy, fervently. He was pulling on his clothes and leaned over Orlando for a good-bye kiss. "But let's forget about it in the morning, shall we? Is that OK by you?"

"Perfectly OK," murmured Orlando and smiled. The door clicked shut and Orlando rolled over. 'What do you know,' he thought. 'Poor old Billy does have love problems. Thank heaven I'm not into those.'

Orlando didn't like to be anyone's nanny or hand-holder, though. 'I'd better steer clear of these emotional types,' was his last thought before drifting into sleep. 'Stick with the ones who I know just wanna have fun.'

This was the frame of mind he was in two days later, at the fateful beach party. Or what turned out to be the fateful beach party. He didn't then suspect, of course, that it was going to be fateful at all. The idea was: it was going to be fun, not fate.

It was a barbecue at night on the beach, with all the usual suspects joining in. Even Sean and Viggo had come along, and there were David and Dominic and Miranda and Steve the Orc, and true, Billy was there, too, but he left early and seemed troubled. Orlando thought no more about him. There was steak, and there were buns, and even salad, there was wine and beer and dope galore. The fire crackled and was orange. The ocean roared and was black. Elijah had brought a portable radio, and they danced in the sand and fell over each other's legs. Above them, the Southern Cross blazed, and the air smelled of salt and sex.

Everyone looked erotic in the fire and star light but Orlando quickly decided on his partner for the night. Sean and Viggo he didn't know about, and Steve the Orc was canoodling up to Miranda, and David looked too spaced-out, and Elijah looked as if he might want more than just a one-night quickie, and Liv, well, Liv was Liv. Really, there was only one person there who'd be good for a bit of sport, no questions asked, no secrets told, and most definitely, no strings attached.

 

\------------------------------

2\. Dominic

Dominic stood on the hill above Wellington and felt dismal.

It was one of those windy days, typical of Wellington. Dominic had only just got back from shooting on the South Island, but had simply dumped his bags in his room and then practically run from the hotel. He didn't want to see anyone. Well, there was one person in particular he couldn't yet cope with seeing again, and he needed to move his limbs and let the fresh air blow the cobwebs out of his mind.

It wasn't really working. Being alone just made him melancholy, and the fact that this footpath was heavy with memories didn't help. Also, the air up in these hills was almost too fresh. In fact, it was freezing cold. The wind wasn't only blowing his thoughts around uselessly in his head but also tugging at his hair and whipping drops of rain into his eyes. Beneath the path, sheets of grey were beginning to drive across the town from the ocean. Dominic tucked his head into his shoulders.

And yet it had been warm only three weeks ago ---. But he did not want to think about that now.

"Oh, what the ...," he cried out as his foot sank into a puddle of mud. This was really too stupid. He should just head straight back down, go to the hotel, have a hot shower. But then he might bump into people down there, and he did not want to bump into people. 

Above all, he did not want to bump into Orlando.

Why he was so obsessed with Orlando, he didn't know. It made no sense and there was no point to it. The guy wasn't interested and never would be. He was the greatest gallivanter of the entire cast, and he never landed in the same bed more often than twice in a row. If that. Everyone knew this. It was fodder for gleeful gossip and no great secret at all. The irony was that it was Dominic himself who had the reputation for second-most promiscuous cast member. Liv called him and Orlando the 'two Casanovas', and people laughed. And Dominic had always laughed back, and Orlando had given him a wink, and that had been that.

Three weeks ago, Dominic had stopped laughing.

He sighed and blinked into the rain. He had reached the little plateau at the end of one of the paths. The rain was slowly changing from drizzle into downpour. There was the drip-drip of water from leaves. The sea was grey, and the sky was grey. No-one else was about.

So much for trying to clear his thoughts. This was the exact same place where it had all started three months ago.

They had all gone walking up the hill and ended up on this plateau. It had been their first outing beyond the city itself. The day couldn't have been more different from today. The sun was hot. The sky was so dark blue that it was almost black. Dominic had never seen such a sky, but then, he had not been to the antipodes before. The city spread out before them, houses clinging to the steep hill and crowding together in the harbour valley below. Far beyond, on the horizon, shimmered the outline of the South Island. Dominic could just make out the ferry, glistening white on the channel, and hear gulls crying on the wind.

Everyone had been there: all the main Brits, the Aussies, the Kiwis and the Americans; Billy and Elijah and Orlando, Liv, the two Seans, Viggo, David, Miranda, plus an assortment of orcs and two lads from lighting. It had been like one large high school outing. They had all been chattering excitedly. New Zealand was bright and new. They'd only just got there, and they'd exclaimed and pointed and generally laughed a lot.

"It's Middle-Earth!" called out someone. "It really is!"

"That's because you don't know what any of these places are in real life, yer great dolt!" called someone else.

"Ah, but I do know this land!" declaimed Viggo. "This is where my people walked of old, it is fairest Gondor!"

"Beware, this Man is not to be trusted!" cried little Sean and spread his arms melodramatically.

They were doing this a lot at that time, lapsing into movie-speech, because they were all still figuring each other out. They referred to one another by their characters' names, the orc-actors bared their teeth, and the guys from lighting rolled their eyes and went, "Actors!"

There was a lot of manoeuvring going on, people sidling up to this person or to that, and a lot of wondering: Who was going to get on with whom? Who was going to get off with whom? Because, yes, sex had been in the air, and Dominic was loving it. As he stood on that hilltop, the sun burning his neck, he let his eyes roam idly across the group, cruising his companions' faces.

"Legolas, can you not use your elvish eyes and tell us what that blob-thing is down there?" cried David and pointed at something on the water.

"Aye, my noble friend," cried Orlando. "That blob, as you call it, is the five o'clock ferry from Dunedin!"

"Dunedin!" guffawed the Kiwis. "You don't have the first clue where Dunedin is!" Some mockery ensued, and good-natured repartee. It was while all this was going on that Dominic noticed Orlando's wrist.

Orlando had lifted his left arm to shade his eyes for an elvish distance stare. When he did this, his wristwatch, a chunky silver Rolex type, slid up onto his arm, and for whatever reason, this gesture made Dominic's heart miss a beat. The hilarity around him faded into static. Orlando's watch flashed in the sun. When Orlando lowered his arm, the watch slipped back down and bumped against the bones of his wrist. Dominic saw the way the hand grew out of the wrist, the angular joint of thumb to palm, the ring on the forefinger, the round short nails. The whole moment lasted maybe one second, then the noise roared back into Dominic's ears.

Dominic looked up at Orlando's face. Orlando was laughing at something, dimples everywhere, and absent-mindedly rubbing the shaved side of his head. Dominic had found the haircut ridiculous but now the sight of the white skin above Orlando's ears made his own skin tingle. Orlando looked over and caught Dominic's eye, he laughed and winked at Dominic, and Dominic laughed back, feeling deliriously happy.

It was then that Dominic had fallen mildly in love with Orlando. Not enough to make him miserable, and not enough to make him give up the many pleasures of the flesh to be enjoyed on this shoot, but just enough to cast a sparkle over any event or encounter that had Orlando in it. Dominic would be somewhere, doing whatever, and Orlando would appear, and Dominic's body would come alive as if he'd just drunk a pot of coffee. Dominic would look at Orlando and smile and smile. He couldn't help smiling at Orlando, and Orlando mostly sauntered over and blew him a kiss or gave him a high-five, and traded friendly banter, and that was it, really.

Dominic never felt the remotest need to do anything about this state of affairs. He was perfectly content. That is, until that night on the beach, a full two-and-a-half months later.

What a night. What a perfect night, and what a dreadful awakening afterwards.

Looking back on it, Dominic had walked into it with both eyes open but somehow he had still failed to see anything crucial. Until it had been too late.

They'd been on the beach since the early evening, waiting for dusk to fall, and it took its time in falling. There was a little fire, and various items were roasted in it. Beer and joints were passed around. Orlando was sitting near Dominic a lot, sometimes rubbing shoulders, sometimes back-to-back.

"Look at you two," said Liv. "What a cute couple! Our two very cute Casanovas!"

"That's so old, Liv," said Orlando and threw a napkin ball in her general direction. His back moved and tensed against Dominic's T-shirt, and that felt good. All of it felt good.

In fact, Dominic felt fantastic. He was filled to the gills with weed and good will, and he had that coffee-and-champagne feeling that he always had when Orlando was around. The night sparkled, Orlando sparkled and flirted outrageously with all and sundry, Dominic's heart sparkled. And the stars sparkled above. What more could one want? Dominic certainly didn't want anything more, and he had no inkling that there was anything more to be had. But there was, oh there was.

One by one the others started to peel off.

Sean and Viggo and Billy were the first to get up. "We're off," said Billy. "You coming, Dominic?"

Dominic lifted his half-full beer can and shook his head. Orlando didn't move, either.

Sean said, "Lijah? Come on, I'd better get you home. You look a bit out of it."

"He'll be fine; I'll get him home," said Liv. "Don't worry about it, I'll take care of him. Won't I, Lijie?"

"Yeah," said Sean, dubiously, and they went. Steve the Orc, Miranda and David followed not long after. That left only Liv and Elijah. And Orlando, of course, and Dominic.

Elijah didn't look too good. He was hugging his knees, and his head was lolling.

"I feel woozy," he stammered.

"Sure you do," said Liv. "After what you've shoved into yourself tonight. Come on, time for beddie-byes."

"Where's Sean?" Elijah said. "Has Sean left?"

"Sean left ages ago," said Liv. "Come on, get up."

"I want Sean," said Elijah. "Where are my shoes?"

"Well, where did you take them off?"

Liv started crawling around the fireplace, patting the sand. The fire had by now died down, night had fallen, and it was actually rather pitch-black. The stars shone above but that only made the earth seem darker.

"Those two," whispered Orlando and chuckled.

Dominic chuckled back.

"You coming, Orli?" said Liv, still on all fours with her nose in the sand.

Dominic held his breath.

"No, not yet," said Orlando.

"Nor me," said Dominic quickly.

"Oh, good, here they are!" cried Liv, and then, "Shit, Lije, what have you done to them? They're full of beer!"

"I'm not wearing beer on my feet," said Elijah, somewhat indistinctly.

"Oh, don't be stupid," said Liv. "Just put them on."

"Why are you fussing?" whined Elijah.

Liv was kneeling down and forcing the shoes onto Elijah's feet.

"I'm not fussing," she said. "Now, shut up and get up. I'll carry your radio."

"Fancy a swim?" whispered Orlando into Dominic's ear.

"Sure," whispered Dominic. There was a devilishly mischievous tone in Orlando's voice but Dominic, fool that he was, didn't make anything of it besides taking it for a sign of amused exasperation with Liv and Elijah. But everyone was always being amusedly exasperated with Liv and Elijah so that was nothing out of the extraordinary.

Dominic screwed his half-full beer can into the sand and tensed his calf muscles to stand up, but there was Orlando already, standing before him, gallantly holding out his hand and pulling him up.

"Thanks, mate," Dominic said. "Not that I'm that decrepit just yet."

Orlando laughed and kept hold of Dominic's wrist, just a fraction of a second longer than necessary. Dominic noticed, of course. Indeed, Orlando's touch burned into his arm. But he still didn't make anything of it besides taking it for a sign of his own infatuation and the general intoxication of the evening.

"We're going for a dip," Orlando called out. "See you in the morning, Liv."

"Oooh," said Liv. "The two Casanovas! Midnight dip! Well, have fun, boys! And don't forget to take the garbage with you!"

"Good luck with Lijah," said Dominic and grabbed a towel.

As they started jogging down towards the water's edge, Liv shouted after them, "And don't do anything I wouldn't do, boys!"

"Well," Orlando giggled. "That doesn't leave much. I don't think there's much that Liv wouldn't do."

"And you would know, would you?" said Dominic and laughed.

"I'm just saying that I'm glad it wasn't Elijah saying that," said Orlando. "I think we'll have more fun this way."

This was a cryptic remark, or it seemed cryptic to Dominic at the time. In retrospect, it wasn't cryptic at all, of course. But all Dominic thought then, was, 'Yes, this is fun. This is fabulous fun, and I'm fabulously lucky,' and all he said was, "We'll have fun, anyway." Which was kind of a lame response and shows that Dominic was, even at this early stage in the proceedings, not completely clear of mind.

They had reached the hard moist sand. Shallow waves lapped up at their feet. In the distance, Elijah's voice could still be heard, "My head hurts and I feel sick," and Liv's cheery reply, "Shut up and keep walking, Lijie."

Orlando, meanwhile, was stripping off and plunging naked into the ocean. Dominic, although fully supplied with bathing shorts, did likewise and splashed after him, the water slapping against his nipples and shrinking his balls.

"It's actually not that cold," puffed Orlando and splashed Dominic.

"You bastard," said Dominic and splashed Orlando. They tussled a little in the water, then they paddled out to where the breakers started and dived through a few, then they tussled some more, then Orlando ducked Dominic, and Dominic yelped and ducked Orlando. Then they waded back to shore, the blood rushing through their veins.

"Shit, there's no towel," said Orlando and hopped up and down.

"I've got one," said Dominic and felt around the sand with this foot for where their clothes had fallen. Orlando's head was silhouetted black against the constellations.

"This is a towel?" Orlando said. "This is tiny. This is barely big enough to cover my dick."

"What size dick have you got?" laughed Dominic. "Sorry I didn't bring the king size bath towel! Sorry I didn't bring the ten-foot mat!"

Talking about Orlando's dick was fun, yes, but just that little bit too close to the bone, and, ridiculous as it was, it made Dominic's ears burn.

Then Orlando said, "So. What do you want to do?" And now, Dominic listened up. The words were harmless enough but even Dominic could tell that the tone of voice was entirely and completely and comprehensively suggestive. Orlando was not only speaking softly and huskily; he was practically purring.

"What?" said Dominic, blankly.

"What Liv said," purred Orlando. "What we should and what we shouldn't do. What, then, do you want to do?"

"Um," said Dominic. Suddenly, he needed to get his shorts on very fast.

Orlando laughed. "Don't bother putting your shorts back on," he said. "I know you've got a roaring hard-on."

"Ha," said Dominic, weakly. "Have you got x-ray vision or what?"

"No," replied Orlando, and he was purring again. "It's just that I've got one, too."

"Haha," said Dominic. "Right. I didn't know hard-ons could roar." But he stepped out of his shorts.

"Maybe not," said Orlando, and he didn't even need to purr any longer for Dominic's ears to start burning. "But there are two or three other things they can do and that I could show you."

Dominic laughed. "Are you propositioning me, Bloom?" he said.

"Maybe," said Orlando with that bedroom voice of his. "Maybe. Is that what you want me to do?"

Dominic stood stock still. This was getting interesting.

"Maybe," he finally echoed Orlando's words. "Maybe."

"So," Orlando continued. "You still haven't answered my question. What, my friend, do you want to do?"

"I don't know," said Dominic. Which was a complete lie. Dominic knew exactly what he wanted to do. Five hundred things that he wanted to do with and to and on top of Orlando flashed through his mind quite unbidden. The difficulty lay in choosing only one of them.

"I don't believe you," whispered Orlando. His head was close in the dark, and his breath brushed Dominic's cheek. He smelled of salt and beer and something else, something metallic and unmistakably sexual.

"OK," Dominic said slowly, trying to keep his voice light. "I've thought of something."

"I knew you would," said Orlando.

"Have you ever...," began Dominic.

"Wow," said Orlando. He'd seen the moon.

Dominic turned around.

It must have been rising for a while but now, as they watched, the upper curve of the moon pushed over the black tangle of trees on the shore. The world was transformed. Icy silver flooded the beach. Every twig and rock and crevice became sharply outlined against its own inky shadow. The ocean rippled white and black, and the moon cast a glittering path across it. The stars were bleached in the lunar halo.

Dominic looked at Orlando. He had been a shadowy presence but now he was lit up as if by lightning. He was awash with silver, like a marble statue come to life. The shaven sides of his skull gleamed, and his face was sculpted into ivory curves and pools of onyx. Dominic's eyes dropped, and there was Orlando's erection, marvellously echoing his own desire.

"It's incredible," Dominic said. He didn't mean the moon.

Orlando tipped his head back, as if to drink in the sky. He looked bewitched.

"I'll be right back," said Dominic, and started up the beach.

"What?" said Orlando. "Where are you going?"

"Just hang on a minute," said Dominic, and ran to the barbecue place. He searched through the plastic bags with flying hands until he found it. The bottle. Full? Yes, about half. Good. He took his beer can from the sand and finished it in one gulp. Then, clutching the bottle in one hand, he ran back down the beach.

Orlando wasn't there.

Dominic looked right, Dominic looked left. There was Orlando, sprinting up the beach in the moonbeams, like some strange white sprite.

"Hey!" called out Dominic.

"Race you to that tree trunk!" Orlando's voice came, rising above the sound of the surf.

"Not fair!" yelled Dominic and laughed. "You got a head start!"

He dug around in his shorts on the sand, kicked the clothes up away from the waves and sped after Orlando. His feet thrummed on the sand. The tree trunk was a large bit of driftwood, lying sideways on the beach, sand papered smooth by the sea and with twisted branches sticking up bizarrely against the night sky. Dominic ran and ran, the air prickled on his skin, and the world seemed endless on all sides. Then he stopped.

Orlando had climbed onto the tree trunk. Nude and gorgeous, he was balancing on the log, dancing and -- could it be true? -- singing something, some old pop tune. Though teetering now and again on his narrow support, he was moving rhythmically and gracefully, with his moonlit erection bumping against his belly.

Dominic stood, transfixed. To the right, there was the sound of the ocean. Ahead, there was the sound of Orlando. The sand made tiny, rustling noises, as if traversed by small crabs or other night creatures. The moon hung above, round and liquid. Dominic felt happiness seeping into him like a drug. No, happy was not the word. It was as if all those champagne sensations had finally bubbled over and were filling him up and spilling out of him through the tips of his fingers.

Orlando saw Dominic, waved, tottered and hopped off the log. A spray of sand rose where he landed. Dominic walked up, his ears burning, his cock burning, his head dizzy with lust.

Orlando leant back against the tree. He was grinning at Dominic, sucking in his bottom lip. He looked impossibly seductive.

"What's that? What have you got there?" he said. "Is that the fucking cooking oil?"

"No," said Dominic who was now standing right in front of him. "No, that's just the fucking oil. I don't need to cook you; you look good enough to have raw."

"Perhaps you can marinate me," said Orlando.

That was such a cheesy thing to say that they both burst out laughing.

"I've thought of something to do, anyway," Dominic said.

"And what's that?" Orlando said.

"You'll see," said Dominic, almost dropping the bottle in his haste to unscrew the lid.

"I think," said Orlando and leant his head back, "I can guess."

Dominic poured oil all over his hands. All of a sudden, he just couldn't contain himself and bent forward to bite Orlando on the neck, hard.

"Fuck, Monaghan," said Orlando. "Has the moon turned you into a werewolf? I can't have a bloody love bite on my neck."

"Shut up," whispered Dominic and closed his fist around Orlando. He felt warm and firm and slippery in Dominic's palm. Orlando sighed.

"Is that what you had in mind?" he whispered.

"No," said Dominic. "This is just the beginning."

"Good," said Orlando and lifted his eyes, staring at the moon. He put his hands on Dominic's waist, and Dominic pushed up against him. Then they half stumbled, half fell onto the sand. Dominic ended up kneeling over Orlando, his hands on Orlando's knees, pushing them apart. His pulse raced as he emptied the remaining oil onto his hands and slithered his hands around Orlando's balls.

'It's happening,' he thought, wildly. 'This is happening.' This was no longer just friendly banter.

Orlando gasped as Dominic pushed two oily fingers against him and into him.

"Have you ever," Dominic whispered, "been fucked on a beach?"

"I...," said Orlando through his gasps. "Well, technically no."

"What do you mean, technically?" said Dominic.

"Been fucked," gasped Orlando. "Technically. I've only ever done the fucking."

"I might have guessed," said Dominic. He leaned close and whispered into Orlando's ear, "Well, tonight I'm going to fuck you on this beach till you come."

"I love it when you talk dirty," said Orlando. Then he gasped again and said, "What are you doing to me, Monaghan?"

"You feel good," said Dominic.

"Shit," said Orlando. "My shorts. They're miles away."

"What do you need your shorts for?" said Dominic.

"I need to get a...," began Orlando.

"Don't worry," said Dominic and groped in the sand for the packet. "I've got one here."

Orlando smiled. "I knew you would," he said.

Dominic ripped the packet open with this teeth but Orlando had to help him slide the condom on because Dominic's hands were dripping with oil. Both their bellies were slick with the stuff, and the smell of oil mingled with the smell of their sweat and the salt on their skin.

Orlando closed his fingers around Dominic, and Dominic thought, 'I want this to last forever.' That was the last coherent thought he had.

"Fuck me, Dominic," Orlando said.

Dominic lifted himself, one hand around Orlando, the other braced against the sand. For one long moment he rested his penis against Orlando's entrance, poised on the brink of bliss. He looked at Orlando, Orlando looked at him and then closed his eyes, and slowly, slowly Dominic pushed the head of his cock in and stayed still. Orlando moved his hips to pull him in and his eyes snapped open again. He had the most indescribable expression on his face. Dominic was drowning in that face, in those pebble-black eyes, each with a tiny moon reflected in it. He was drowning in all of Orlando. He plunged in, and Orlando was hot and sweet and tight as a fist.

Orlando's mouth opened in a wide O, and he gave a sharp gasp. His eyes were still locked onto Dominic's.

Then the rhythm started up. Dominic felt as if he were riding a wave, on and on, steadied only by Orlando's extraordinary gaze and Orlando's hands clasped around his waist. He was holding onto Orlando's cock as if for life, pushing his own belly up and down against it, moiling and toiling in the depths of Orlando.

Orlando kept on gasping. His lids fluttered. He let go off Dominic and his hands drifted up to rest loosely on the ground next to his head, palms up. He looked like the essence of helpless surrender as he lay split and opened. With each push, his head jerked back a little on the sand until it hit the log. Orlando grabbed Dominic's wrist, the one used to hold himself up, and almost knocked him off balance, but Dominic kept going and kept riding. In fact, it no longer felt like riding, it was like flying.

Orlando's head kept hitting the log but he was now gasping faster and faster, he was gasping like a fucking steam engine, and then his hot semen flowed over Dominic's hand. Orlando's muscles contracted wildly around Dominic, and that tipped Dominic over. He came and came, with a deep, throaty moan that seemed to have been ripped straight out of the depths of his being. He surprised himself with that moan, he normally never moaned but now he did, as the image of Orlando beneath him went blurry and flew apart into millions of black and white shards. Dominic shuddered, and shuddered again, and with each of these after-shudders, he found himself laughing out loud. He laughed delighted little laughs, and they, too, surprised him.

Orlando lifted his hand and laid it against Dominic's cheek, and Dominic pressed his face against it. Then he dropped his head, moisture dripping from his hair onto Orlando's chest. He grabbed the top of the condom, pulled out and rolled over onto his back. Sand stuck to his skin. His lungs were heaving, and the stars were whirling up above.

Bit by bit, thoughts returned to his head.

"Well," he said to the sky. "That was unexpected."

Then he reached over and cupped Orlando's soft cock, neat and small, in his palm, and licked Orlando's belly, all that mix of oil and sperm and sweat.

"Did I catch you off your guard?" said Orlando, between breaths. If Dominic had listened carefully, he might have caught the uncertain tone in Orlando's voice. But Dominic wasn't listening carefully. He was blithely carefree.

"You did," said Dominic and laughed. Orlando laughed, too. Dominic thought, 'I want to do this again and again.'

"I love the way you laugh," he said out loud to Orlando. "You're always laughing. And that makes me laugh."

Orlando said nothing but looking up at him, Dominic saw that he had that impenetrable look on again.

"Well," Dominic said. "The earth moved for me." Then he rolled off Orlando and fell into a sweet, sweet sleep.

He didn't know how long he'd slept, a couple of minutes at most. When he opened his eyes, there was Orlando, looking at him. Dominic did nothing, just looked back, then reached out his hand to Orlando's head. But Orlando ducked away and jumped up.

"Let's have another dip," he said. "Shit, I'm sore as a horse."

"As a horse?" laughed Dominic.

They ran into the waves again but now there was no tussling and no splashing. Orlando seemed in a strange, after-sex mood. He didn't say much but looked at Dominic sideways a lot and crinkled up his face and laughed.

"What a night," said Dominic.

"Yeah," said Orlando.

Dominic felt absurdly blissful. That bubbly sensation had gone and given way to a deep glow of contentment. Wrapped up in this glow, he thought he was noticing everything about Orlando. But, of course, he was missing all the crucial signs, and noticed nothing but Orlando's charm and the promise in Orlando's face.

Everything that night was good. Walking back to the fire place was good, and getting their gear together was good. Even clearing up the fire and their rubbish was good, and walking side by side through the dunes was companionable and good, and sitting in the back seat of the taxi was snug and good.

Last of all, saying 'good night' on the landing in the hotel was good. Orlando hooked an arm around Dominic's shoulders and said, "Thanks, Dominic. That hit the spot. I had a great time."

"Fuck it, Orlando," Dominic laughed. "You don't have to be so formal with me." He never asked himself what such formality might mean.

It was only when Dominic got to his room that he realised that he hadn't kissed Orlando once during the whole evening. But this only made him smile again at the haste and lust and perfection of it all. He fell asleep, thinking, 'There'll be another chance for kisses. There'll be a hundred other chances, and a thousand things to look forward to.'

The whole of the day after was still enveloped in a haze of happiness. They weren't working together that day but it didn't matter because in the morning, Orlando came over and ruffled Dominic's hair and winked at him, and for the evening there was already a dinner planned with a whole lot of people at some restaurant. So the evening was waiting for Dominic, like a treasure at dusk, and the day was long and bright.

But the evening, when it came, gave up no treasure. Instead, it broke Dominic's haze and Dominic's heart.

Not at first. At first, Dominic sat and ate and conversed, all in a heady fug of anticipation and hardly knowing what he was saying or hearing. Orlando was sitting a few seats away, on the other side of a long table, and seeing him from afar and knowing what they were going to do to each other in only a few hours' time, was pure, excited bliss. Orlando was mostly talking to some woman from costume but he looked over once or twice and smiled. They were smiles of invitation. Or so Dominic thought, foolishly. There was also some good-natured ragging from the others, and Billy was smiling at him a lot, raising his eyebrows.

All of a sudden, Liv cried out, "Are you going already, Orli?"

Dominic drained his glass, ready to get up.

But there was Orlando. He'd stood up, he'd placed some crumpled notes next to his plate, and he had his hand on that costume bimbo's waist. She was throwing her hair about and laughing self-consciously. Orlando directed a general wave at the table -- a general wave! --, and he was gone.

Dominic sat, stunned.

"Well, there goes Casanova Number One," said Liv, callously. "Can you pass me some of those prawn crackers, Lijie?"

"What, these things?" said Elijah.

"How's your hangover?" said Sean.

"Oh, OK," said Elijah.

"You were completely plastered last night," said Liv. "I'm amazed you're even here. Sean, I'm amazed he's even here. It was just as well you left early. You would have been shocked, shocked at the state he was in."

Elijah giggled.

"And so we had to leave those two boys to clean up all on their own," Liv went on, obliviously. "But I'm sure they managed all right!"

"Who's that girl Orlando went off with?" said Miranda.

"Dominic," said Billy. "Are you OK? You look a bit..."

"I'll be right back," said Dominic and pushed his chair back. He found the gents' and locked himself into the cubicle, and there he stood, staring at the ceiling. The ceiling was a puce colour, with a damp patch and a decorative border with some sort of orchid motif along the wall. Dominic pushed out his tongue and licked a drop of salt from the corner of his mouth.

What had happened? How could he have got it all so spectacularly wrong? This had been a one-night stand, a beach quickie --- and that was fine. That was fine. That was perfectly fine, yes. He'd had plenty of those. He was cool with that. Even though he had imagined... But that was just Orlando. Orlando couldn't help being Orlando. Not for nothing was he Casanova Number One. He was just good at that sort of thing, that was all. It meant nothing. Dominic was good at it, too, after all. Where, then, was the problem? Answer: there was no problem.

"Dominic," said Billy outside the cubicle door. "Are you in there?"

By this time, Dominic was weeping uncontrollably.

"Are you all right, Dominic?" said Billy.

Dominic blinked and stared hard at the ceiling and forced himself to swallow his sobs silently. He nearly choked on them.

That had been three weeks ago. To be precise, twenty-three days ago. The days had, luckily, been spent away from Orlando. Dominic had left Wellington and gone on location to the South Island, and Orlando had gone somewhere else, who knew, who cared. Dominic had worked hard, he'd got up early and gone to bed early, always alone. New Zealand was still fantastic, and the job was still unbelievable, but that non-stop coffee feeling had gone.

So here he was, on this wet, high hill in the drizzle, feeling as dismal as Wellington looked. His feet were cold, his ears were freezing, and his nape was wet.

Just then, he heard a curious singing sound. It reminded him of something. He looked around and nearly had a heart attack.

\-------------------------

3\. Orlando

The sex had been wild. The sex had been hot. It wasn't the sex that was bothering Orlando.

It was something else, and he couldn't quite figure it out. All he knew was that his adventure on the beach with Dominic had shaken him up more than was entirely logical. Had it been some sort of moon madness that had messed up his mind? Had that unearthly light twisted his sanity?

What had happened was this. When Orlando had lain on the sand, next to that tree trunk, he had looked up and seen his good mate Dominic, raunchy as hell, up for a bout of sex and a good laugh afterwards. Orlando had closed his eyes, and when he had opened them again, Dominic had gone. In his place, there was an outlandishly beautiful stranger, dressed in Dominic's skin, with Dominic's big ears and Dominic's knobbly nose and Dominic's lopsided smile, but all impossibly radiant.

This impossible new creature had looked at Orlando with eyes full of passion. Orlando had almost not been able to cope with that gaze but he also hadn't been able to tear himself away from it. And Dominic's cock, slowly coming into him, had been like some sort of Cupid's arrow piercing him through and through. He hadn't been able to look at him for long after that, and so he hadn't seen the expression on Dominic's face during orgasm. But he had heard the long, drawn-out moan, a sound that had haunted him to the very base of his spine. And then those laughs. Orlando had never before heard anyone laugh while coming. He had had to touch Dominic's face, as if to assure himself that this was still a man of flesh and blood, and not some creature from another universe.

When Dominic had fallen asleep, he'd looked at him, feeling overwhelmed by something, he didn't know by what. He had bent over and very, very softly touched his lips to Dominic's, and Dominic had smiled in his sleep.

After that, he'd had to escape into the sea. He'd hoped that the old prosaic Dominic would re-emerge after their dip. But he hadn't. He was still ridiculously, deliriously beautiful, and had remained so all the way home.

The next day started well enough, considering. In the morning, Dominic looked almost normal. Orlando went up to him, rumpled his hair and even managed a wink. He didn't want to be rude, after all. Jolly good fun and all the rest of it. Dominic, completely mundanely, yawned and had rings under his eyes.

Still, Orlando had decided that he needed to do something about this, and fast. He needed to go out and get laid by some breathtaking babe. Yes, it had to be a woman, someone as different as possible from Dominic and someone who'd make him forget this odd new creature and get him the old no-nonsense Dominic back. And, more importantly, the old no-nonsense Orlando.

That night, Orlando went along with everyone to some Thai restaurant, long table, people chattering left and right. Luckily, there was that cute girl from costume, sitting right next to him and making moon eyes. Another good sign was that Dominic was there, at the other end of the table, looking quite everyday. Phew, sigh of relief, file that one under 'weird and wonderful'.

But, then, Liv had nothing better to do than to call out from across the table, "So, did you two boys have fun last night, then?"

Others, who'd been at the barbecue, went, "Oooh!," and, "Do tell!" Orlando blushed a bit but that didn't even matter because a bit of a blush is very sexy, and he shot a quick glance at the costume babe, and then another quick glance at Dominic, just to show him his casual attitude to the whole thing.

But where was Dominic? That bloody stranger was there instead, with the lopsided smile and the sparkly eyes, looking straight at him. This time, Orlando blushed furiously and felt hot shivers crawl up his spine and back down again, and then up and down all over again.

He looked away and proceeded to flirt madly with the woman from costume, and sure enough, ended up in her bed later on that evening.

The sex was hot. It was completely different from the night before, and that was good, that was what he needed. But afterwards, he felt drained, like an empty bottle of oil. The woman looked at him, with those suspicious eyes that women can have, and she said,

"Anything wrong?"

He tried to say something gallant but his usual bedside manners had deserted him, and he could tell she didn't believe a word he was uttering.

"But you're sweet, anyway," she said. "You should go now and get some sleep. I had a lovely time."

Of course, that was just what he always said to compliment emotional partners out of his bed and out of his life.

So he slunk off quickly. As soon as he was in his own bed again, he started to replay the moonlight sex with Dominic, that weirdly metamorphosed Dominic, and that was bad, that was very bad, and it stayed bad after that.

It was just as well that Dominic had left Wellington the very next morning.

And today he was due to come back. Orlando, standing at the window in his hotel room, knew this. He knew that Dominic would any minute now walk through the lobby, three floors below, and walk up the stairs or catch the lift to his own room, one floor above. What Orlando didn't know was what he, Orlando, ought to be doing about his return. Or thinking about it. Or anything about it.

Orlando continued standing there and staring out at the rain coming down in long, sad strings over the city. It was gloomy in his room but he didn't want to turn the lights on. He looked out, placed his palms against the window pane and his forehead against the cool glass. He tried to imagine, for the seven-hundredth time, what Dominic's face might have looked like during orgasm. He opened his lips and stuck out his tongue. Then he jumped back.

"This is ridiculous!" he said out loud. "I'm licking and pawing a piece of glass!" He turned around, grabbed his coat and went out, slamming the door behind him.

Here was his plan: he'd go out for a long brisk walk, then he'd go to a pub and pick up someone. No one from the film, just some New Zealander, and he'd pick a pub miles away from where everyone else usually hung out, and he'd never let on that he had anything to do with the movie business.

Outside was windy and drizzly. No-one was about. Neon ads blinked on and off on the wet asphalt. Orlando pulled the hood of his rain coat over his head and buried his fists in the coat's deep pockets. He strode on, aimlessly at first, and then, recognising certain street corners, with a purpose towards the hill path.

He saw no other person, besides one lone man, out walking his dog. The man gave a cheery salute and passed by. After that, Orlando was alone, tramping up the path. It was not unpleasant out here. The rain swished down softly, and the earth smelled sharp and rich. Orlando started to sing an old pop tune to himself, a little walking song, with mostly forgotten lyrics. So he supplied his own words, along the lines of:

"There you were, looking at me sweetly,  
On the beach, in the middle of the night,  
And the moon was shining on your body,   
All I know is that it felt so right,  
Anyway, I do wish that I had kissed you,  
You don't realise how much I have missed you..."

And so forth. It was sentimental drivel but he was pleased when he managed to make it rhyme and it suited the mood, somehow.

It was because he was absorbed in his singing and looking only at his feet trudging along through the mud that he didn't notice the man until he had almost walked into him.

It was Dominic. His hair was wet and his ears were red and he looked completely startled.

Orlando stopped singing.

Neither one said anything. Rain was going 'drip, drip' from some leaves on a tree.

"Hello," said Dominic finally. His voice sounded strangely high.

He did not look at all like the normal, old Dominic. But he didn't look quite as angelic as the one on the beach, either. So that was a relief.

"Hi," said Orlando. His legs were actually shaking.

They both turned away from each other's eyes and stood, looking out at the city.

"So," Orlando said. "You've got back already."

"Yeah," said Dominic. "Just a couple of hours ago."

Orlando nodded. A car honked, miles away.

"And?" said Dominic. "How've things been here?"

"Wet," said Orlando and risked a smile.

"Yeah...," said Dominic. "Though you're all right. Good coat."

"M & S," said Orlando. "Would you believe."

"What were you singing?" said Dominic.

"Oh," said Orlando, one of those small shivers creeping up his spine. "You heard that, did you?"

"I know the tune from somewhere," said Dominic. "But I can't remember the words."

"Oh," said Orlando again. "They're just... some old words." He stopped in confusion.

They lapsed into silence. Orlando suddenly smiled, he couldn't help himself. He blinked twice, then launched into his big statement.

"We had fun the other night, didn't we?" he said, and it came out all in a rush.

Dominic said nothing. Orlando waited, with bated breath. This was terrible. Then Dominic gave a little sniff.

"You all right, mate?" said Orlando.

"Yeah," said Dominic, in an oddly tight voice. "I'm just getting a fucking cold, that's all." He was staring straight ahead, at the horizon.

"Here, have my coat," said Orlando.

"What?" said Dominic.

"Have my coat," said Orlando, tugging the zip down.

"No, no, I'm all right," said Dominic.

"Go on, have it," said Orlando, pulling off the sleeves. "You're sodden."

"Don't be daft," said Dominic.

"I'll be fine, I've got a sweatshirt underneath, with a hood, look," said Orlando. He draped the coat over Dominic's shoulders, then he pulled his own hood up and also Dominic's hood. Dominic looked at him strangely and slowly pushed his arms into the sleeves.

"Thanks, mate," he said. "It's still warm." There was that lopsided smile again. "It's still warm from your body."

Whether it was the words or the smile or the sight of his own warm sleeves enveloping Dominic's arms, but Orlando suddenly had that familiar dry taste at the back of his throat again. He swallowed.

"Here," he said. "Let me zip it up for you."

Dominic stood quite still as Orlando took the corners of the jacket and fumbled with the zipper tag and the little slot. It was then that Orlando noticed how much his hands were trembling and that he couldn't get the fucking zip to go in.

"You better do it," he said and laughed a wobbly laugh. But he was still holding onto the coat tails.

Dominic took the ends of the zip. His hands closed over Orlando's fingers. The touch was like an electric shock. Orlando shivered. He kept his head down, not knowing where to look, yearning to look into Dominic's eyes but not daring.

The moment continued, as if stretched through time. Neither of them moved. Dominic's hands were on Orlando's, Orlando's hands were on the coat. A bird called somewhere, and there was a breeze but the world seemed to have shrunk to this small enclosed circle of hands on hands, hands on coat.

Slowly, slowly, and without daring to breathe, Orlando moved his hands into the coat and brushed his fingertips against Dominic's sweatshirt. He moved his fingers round, inch by inch, until they reached Dominic's waist. He was still only touching Dominic with his fingertips, and could barely feel him through the damp fabric, and yet this was making him shake like a leaf.

"Your top is sodden," he whispered.

"Yeah," said Dominic, and he was whispering, too.

Now Dominic's hands were moving, sliding along Orlando's arms up to the elbows, sliding along inside the sleeves and pushing up the sleeves as they went. Every hair on Orlando's arms stood up.

'I should be doing something,' Orlando thought weakly. 'I should be telling a joke or saying something outrageous because this is just for fun, isn't it, this is just a laugh between mates.'

But he couldn't say anything. He felt paralysed. He wasn't even thinking about the beach any longer. In fact, this was the first time in ages that he hadn't been thinking obsessively about the beach. His senses were filled with the presence of Dominic now and here, with the wet smell of his own sweat rising from the inside of the coat on Dominic's back, and with the cool, moist touch of Dominic's hands chilling his skin.

Dominic's hands were on the move again, crawling up his arms, outside the sleeves now. Already, Orlando was missing the touch of skin on skin. But then Dominic's hands were on his shoulders, and that was good, too, and then Dominic hooked his thumbs around the edges of Orlando's hood and pulled the hood off, sliding his thumbs along the sides of Orlando's head.

Orlando looked up. Their eyes locked, and a bolt of heat shot through Orlando. He grabbed Dominic's waist, to stop himself from falling over, as much as anything else. Dominic's thumbs were along Orlando's temples, his fingers spread around his skull. He could feel them cool and wet against his bare skin, and on his right temple there was the cold touch of Dominic's thumb ring.

"Your hair's starting to grow back at the sides," whispered Dominic.

"Your fingers are cold, you must be freezing," whispered Orlando.

"I'm not, I'm burning up," whispered Dominic.

"Oh," said Orlando.

He dipped his chin and searched for Dominic's lips, at the same time as Dominic was leaning into him. Their noses bumped awkwardly, then their chins, and their lips met at an odd angle. Orlando's mouth had landed on Dominic's top lip which was covered in droplets and tasted of rain and musk. He shifted slightly and took Dominic's lip between his own two lips, and then Dominic sucked in Orlando's bottom lip, and Orlando's head began to swim. He clutched at Dominic's waist like a drowning man, as the kiss continued, open-mouthed now, but without touching tongues, just their lips moving against each other.

Orlando felt Dominic's thumbs smooth his eyebrows from nose to temple, and again, and then stroke his eyelids shut and press firmly against his eyeballs. He gasped into Dominic's mouth and fumbled to get his hands underneath Dominic's clothes and against his hot skin. He moved his hands around to the front and rubbed the balls of his palms against Dominic's belly and felt the soft hairs trailing down from Dominic's navel.

Dominic moaned softly into the kiss. The moan was so nakedly sexual that all of Orlando's blood drained into his cock and he gasped in response. Their tongues met. Dominic stopped moaning. Orlando stopped gasping. He was now on fire in two places, his loins and his mouth, and he took the kiss with dizzying slowness at first, then with more and more frenzied passion. He was drinking in and drinking up Dominic, savouring his saliva and the feel of his teeth and the shape of his cheeks from the inside. He was lost now, lost in Dominic's body. He slid his arms round to Dominic's back and beneath his waistband and cupped Dominic's nude cheeks in his hands. Dominic was grabbing the tufts of hair on top of his head with one hand, and moving his other hand beneath Orlando's sweatshirt, pushing up the top and pulling Orlando against him by the waist. Their bellies touched, skin on skin, and their groins ground together. Orlando gasped again, and Dominic moaned again.

A dog went, 'Woof', and they sprang apart.

"Good day to you!" said a man with a baseball cap and a huge setter on a leash. "Don't mind me."

They stood, speechless and pink-cheeked, waiting for the man to pass. The rain appeared to have stopped while they'd been lost in their kiss. A shaft of sunlight streamed out from behind a tattered cloud. The city and the hill lit up with a strange, acid-yellow light.

The man and his dog disappeared down the path. Orlando looked at Dominic and laughed.

"Well," said Dominic, shakily but laughing, too. "I've never kissed anyone in the rain before. Believe it or not."

"I have," said Orlando, and immediately cursed his own stupidity for saying that. "But not like this," he quickly added.

"Like what?" said Dominic.

"Like this," murmured Orlando, and leant in for a second helping. Dominic's tongue was soft and wet, and his mouth even sweeter, now that he was getting to know it better. He tried something else, feeling bolder and biting Dominic's lower lip and getting more aggressive with his tongue. He suddenly remembered how Dominic had bitten him on the beach. He brought his arms up and dug his hands into Dominic's hair and twisted strands of it around his fingers. Dominic flinched but didn't break the kiss. Orlando pushed against him, and Dominic pushed back. They almost stumbled, and Dominic grabbed Orlando's waist. Then Orlando put his hands over Dominic's ears and opened his mouth wide and licked the insides and outsides of Dominic's lips, and the corners of his mouth, and bit his cheek, softly sucking the skin in between his teeth.

Dominic was moaning again. These moans were driving Orlando wild, he wanted to hear them again and again, and he wanted to invent one hundred ways to draw them out.

"Why didn't we do this the other night?" he gasped into Dominic's ear.

"I don't know," murmured Dominic.

"I haven't stopped thinking about that night," said Orlando. There. He'd said it. "Stupid, isn't it."

"I haven't stopped thinking about you," said Dominic.

"Really?" said Orlando.

Dominic just smiled at him.

"What are you doing to me, Monaghan?" said Orlando, softly.

"Let's kiss again," said Dominic.

"No," said Orlando thoughtfully and looked up into the clouds.

"Why not?" said Dominic.

"Let's do something else," said Orlando slowly. "Let's go back to the hotel."

Dominic pulled away. "I don't think that's such a good idea," he said.

"Why not?" said Orlando. "Have you got someone waiting there for you?"

"No!" snapped Dominic. "I haven't got anyone waiting there for me! Have you?"

"No," said Orlando, taken aback. "I haven't got anyone waiting for me, either. So let's go."

Dominic said, "I don't want to."

"What are you talking about?" said Orlando.

"The other night," said Dominic. "That was just a quick shag, wasn't it? That was just some fun on a beach, right?"

"Right," said Orlando. "I mean, no. I mean..." He stopped.

"You don't know what you mean, in other words," said Dominic.

"What are you talking about?" said Orlando again. "I hate this kind of talk."

"Then don't talk it!" shouted Dominic. "It's you who's talking all the bullshit!"

"What bullshit?" said Orlando.

"All the 'I can't stop thinking about that night' bullshit," shouted Dominic. "I don't want to hear such bullshit. I was there, remember!"

Orlando did hate this kind of talk. Usually. But after these past few weeks, obsessively going over and over that one night, in his head, alone, it was a curious relief to be able to shout about it. And a shouting Dominic was still better than no Dominic at all.

"It's not bullshit," faltered Orlando.

"It was a quick shag," Dominic repeated stubbornly.

"Well, how the fuck was I supposed to know that I was going to fall in love with you on that beach?" cried Orlando.

"What?" said Dominic. "Did you say 'fall in love'? Did you say you've fallen in love?"

"No," said Orlando cautiously. "No, I didn't say that."

"OK, you didn't say that," said Dominic. "But did you mean it?"

"Maybe," said Orlando, staring at the clouds again. "Maybe not."

"Forget it," said Dominic, sounding tired. "It was just the moon, all right. It did things to our brains. And all that ganja."

"There's no moon now," said Orlando.

"What?" said Dominic.

Orlando heaved a sigh and looked at a tree away on their left. "There's no moon now," he repeated, "but I still feel..."

"In love?" said Dominic.

"I didn't say that," said Orlando.

Dominic started to walk. He was walking up the path, further into the hills, away from the city. Orlando caught up with him.

"Where are you going?" he said. "Let's go to the hotel. Come on."

"It's not a good idea," said Dominic, flatly.

"It is a good idea!" cried Orlando. "It's a fucking brilliant idea!"

Dominic just went on walking at a merry clip. Orlando jogged along beside him. He was suddenly terrified that Dominic was simply going to keep on walking, walk right out of his life, take his coat with him and never look back.

"It's not a good idea," Dominic repeated, like a robot. "We have to work together, we see each other every day..."

"So what?" groaned Orlando. "What makes you so fucking sensible all of a sudden?"

"I'm not fucking sensible!" cried Dominic. "I'm not sensible at all. I'm in a bad way, all right, so just leave it."

"What do you mean?" said Orlando.

"The other night," Dominic said, striding up the hill. "The other night nearly did me in. It's just too much. Sorry, Orlando. It's nothing to do with you but... I just can't cope with more of that stuff."

"What stuff? We haven't done anything!" said Orlando.

Dominic looked at him and burst out laughing. "You mean, I've only buggered you silly on a beach," he said. "OK, I suppose that wasn't 'anything'."

"It wasn't," said Orlando. "It means nothing." What was he saying?

Dominic nodded. "Just what I've been saying. It means nothing." He looked grim.

"No, I didn't mean that," Orlando said. "Are you jealous?"

That stopped Dominic in his tracks. "No," he said. "I mean, yes. That, too. But forget it. It has nothing to do with you. That's my problem, isn't it."

"I haven't slept with anyone since that night," blurted out Orlando.

Dominic laughed again. "You mean except for that bimbette the very next night at the restaurant. For example. Orlando, do stop the bullshit!"

"Oh, I'd forgotten about that," said Orlando, sheepishly. "But that meant nothing."

"Good," said Dominic. "What we did on the beach meant nothing, and what you did with bambina means nothing. So everything is fine, everything is cool. What is the problem? Answer: there isn't any problem."

"This is stupid," said Orlando and stopped. They'd come upon a small knoll with a single tree on it. The tree was nearly bent double and looked blasted by decades of wind.

"We're standing on top of a mountain," said Orlando, "and having a lovers' tiff, and we're not even lovers." "Yet," he added under his breath.

Dominic mumbled something.

"What?" said Orlando.

"I just told you. I'm in a bad way about you," said Dominic. "I've been in a bad way about you ever since... oh, forever. Possibly ever since that day we came up here last, in fact, when we'd only just got here."

"I remember," said Orlando.

"Whatever happened to that watch you were wearing that day?" Dominic asked, out of the blue.

"Watch?" said Orlando, blankly. "Oh, that. That wasn't mine. That belonged to..." He bit his lip. 'Someone I'd just met the night before and had a fling with for about two days', was how that sentence should have ended.

"I see," said Dominic.

"Why are you jealous?" Orlando said.

Dominic shrugged.

"You never said," Orlando said.

"No, of course I bloody well never said," said Dominic but he was smiling. "You were in and out of everyone's bed at a rate of knots. What was I supposed..."

"So were you!" Orlando pointed out.

"Well, yes..." admitted Dominic. He grimaced. "But only a bit."

Orlando laughed. "OK, Mister 'Only a Bit'," he said. "I want to whisper something in your ear."

"All right," said Dominic.

Orlando moved forwards. Just then a jogger came around the corner, with a discman around her waist. She waved breezily. They waited until she'd disappeared up the path. Then Orlando held onto both of Dominic's shoulders. He pressed his lips against Dominic's left ear and let it all tumble out.

"At the beach that night," he whispered, "I did just want to have some fun, and so did you, I thought. But then, half-way through, something happened, I don't know what, you say it's the moon, I don't think it was the moon, I think it was you, I can't think about anything but that night. That girl from costume, that was just to forget you, I'm sorry about that, I know it's not polite to say so but it didn't work, I didn't forget you, I think about you all the time and I love to look at you and to feel you." He was losing the thread of what he was saying. "And I..." He closed his eyes and clutched Dominic's shoulders as Dominic's arms slowly wrapped themselves around his back. "Please don't walk away, and please don't tell me I'm full of bullshit, and fuck it, Dominic, please come down to the hotel with me."

Dominic had buried his head in Orlando's neck. Orlando could feel his mouth against his skin and he thought, "If he doesn't come with me I don't know what I shall do."

He felt Dominic sigh against his neck. "OK," Dominic said. "I'm the world's biggest idiot. But OK. I won't walk away, and I will come down with you. Let's try this thing and see where it gets us to."

Orlando sprang away and stretched his arms. "Gads!" he cried. "And that's enough deep miserable conversation for one day!" But he was blinking furiously and scratching the corner of his eye.

"Look," said Dominic. "There's a rainbow."

So there was. It arched right over the harbour and lost itself in what remained of the clouds.

 

End.

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Notes: This is a work of pure fiction. I don't know any of these people and I know nothing of their sex lives or, for that matter, of their lives in general. I am just borrowing their names and appearances as seen on public-domain photos as an excuse for my own fantasies. The story also features some not-yet-seen actors from TTT and RotK, found on The One Ring website, specifically David (Faramir), Miranda (Eowyn) and Stephen (Gorbag). Apologies to any readers from NZ: I have been in Wellington only once and don't know if there any hill paths there or any beaches within taxi distance from Wellington. M & S is Marks & Spencer's, the English department store.

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